Happy New Year, Tabs! And happy first snowfall of the year. I can't say I was expecting to make this update, either, but here we are. Have we already had a snowy chapter in this fic? I guess you'll just have to reread to find out ;) And to anyone else who's still reading, hello! Will we make any progress on the plot of this fic before the 10 year anniversary of its making? That's a mystery to all of us.
~ Em
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Snowfall at Le Cirque des Rêves is always a special event. Tomorrow, the gates will remain closed through the night, and though those who crowd the entrance at sundown will be disappointed, by the time the blizzard picks up they will be glad to be back in the comfort of their homes.
But that's tomorrow. Tonight, you are here, and there is snow falling around you in gentle, lazy spirals. You had visited the Circus last night, too, and the atmosphere then had been nothing short of breathtaking. Tonight, there is a different quality to it, though you can't quite put your finger on the specifics.
You watch as a kitten scampers away from a performer, its eyes wide and fixed on the sky as it tries to hunt a snowflake. Along a pathway you have already travelled this evening, you come across a living statue. You'd noticed her earlier, had thought how cold she must be in only a dress. Now, she is halfway into a coat - the other half held aloft by a woman who is clearly not of the circus proper. Though you never see the statue move, the other woman stands true, and you think her lips are moving, talking to stone ears. The coat the statue is half-wearing is a grey that complements her dress, though the bright red of the lining is a shock in the monochrome light. You look up at the sky, and notice that it too has eschewed its usual blue to better fit the Circus' colours.
You buy a drink near the Bonfire, and pause nearby to let it warm you up. Each snowflake that lands on the heated metal seems to give a brief sizzle, but the flames seem in no danger of going out - in fact they seem to lick higher than they had the night before, reaching out into the snow above. There are children around with the same look in their eyes as the kitten from earlier; wonder mixing with awe as they try to catch snowflakes on their tongues. You think they have the right idea, and you can't help but tip your head back too, mouth open wide. When you finally catch one, and look back down, you catch the gaze of an older woman who has clearly been watching you. Your cheeks heat with embarrassment, but the smile she gives you is delighted, and before you duck away you see her tilt her head back to the sky in turn.
Warmed by the drink, the bonfire, and the unexpected connection, you decide on another tent at random. When you emerge, shellshocked at what you have seen, the snow is falling harder. You blink some out of your eyes, and suddenly the flurriesno longer seem to move randomly. Instead there are patterns and creatures, scenes and moments and stories one and all. You shake your head and in that moment it's all just snow again, but when you spot a young man stopped in the middle of the path, staring just as you had been, you know you hadn't imagined it. Another man winks at you as he walks past, the snow settling on his red hair.
It's playfulness, you realise. That's the difference between the circus today, and the circus last night. Last night had been awe-inspiring; untouchable in its perfection. Tonight, there's an added warmth to it; the excitement spreading from just the audience to touch each performer as well. When you look for it, you see it more and more: a smile passing between two acrobats; a juggler seamlessly integrating a snowball into their routine. The audience around catch on, throwing more, and soon the sky is a blur of powdery projectiles as all the jugglers around join in, sending the snow between themselves as well as just up into the air.
You stoop to make one yourself, ducking just in time to avoid a throw from an audience member that has travelled far past its intended target. It hits someone behind you, and that's all it takes: within moments the whole courtyard is in battle, alliances and nemeses formed on a whim, snowballs shared and stolen alike.
It's joyous, and you know the emotion must show on your face as you take in the scene. Then you grab another armful of snow, and get right back into the fray.